


Hold Me in this Winter Weather

by Lil_Redhead



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: M/M, Professional Cuddling AU, Romantic Captain Charming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-25
Updated: 2017-09-25
Packaged: 2019-01-05 03:05:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12181695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lil_Redhead/pseuds/Lil_Redhead
Summary: Killian Jones just can’t seem to warm up. The solution? Professional cuddling in the arms of a David Nolan: handsome farmer and winter enthusiast.





	Hold Me in this Winter Weather

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PhiraLovesLoki](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhiraLovesLoki/gifts).



The story of how Killian found the idea was actually rather dull compared to other tales he had hidden up his sleeves. It went like this: man sits at his computer after a very frigid, winter day at the docks. Man cannot seem to warm up, even after the usual reliable methods of heavy fleece blanket, two pairs of wool socks, and a mug of coffee had been attempted. Perhaps out of curiosity, but most probably out of boredom and a bit of desperation, he opens his internet browser and unashamedly types out “ _Fast ways to get warmer.”_

Spoiler alert: going to a professional cuddler was actually _not_ the first suggestion that appeared on the screen, and it certainly wasn’t the first thing he tried. Turned out, a hot shower did the trick, an idea he came up with himself thank you very much. But Killian was a man of learning, and how could he not read up on the transfer of body heat once it was suggested to him by some hipster blog. Not just any transfer of body heat. Professional cuddling.

Then of course, before he could even think about indulging in a hot shower, he had to answer the question _What the actual fuck is professional cuddling?_  Luckily for him, the internet is a wealth of information.

And oh, he liked what he found. The excitement wasn’t loud in the, “Call your lads and go hire a professional cuddler right this bloody second” kind of way, but rather a quiet encouragement in the back of his mind whispering “Wow, what would it feel like to be properly held?”

Anyone else would have outright laughed in his face if they saw how seriously he scrolled through the exceptionally long list of professional huggers. With a sigh of frustration, Killian glared at the screen. Not one cuddlist looked any more capable than the others. The longer he looked, the more he felt like was shopping for a human person more than looking for the right person to provide a service.

In the end, he e-mailed the company with the request that they choose someone for him. He had no preferences, just that the person be within traveling distance. The next day, he received just what he had asked for. The reply e-mail expressed the director’s elation that Killian was joining their community, ensured the safety of signing up for the service, and asked him when he would like his appointment.

In the week and a half leading up to meeting his cuddlist, Killian only told a select few people about what he decided to do. There were his old navy mates, Robin and Will, who wanted to know why he couldn’t attend their usual Friday evening pub outing. Killian didn’t really see the point in lying, but changed his tune when all Robin and Will wanted to talk about was, _What if she’s pretty?_ and _How will you possibly survive an hour in the embrace of a women who specializes in snuggling?_ They both received proper _thwacks_ on the back of their heads, and only shut up about it when Killian shoved beer into their hands. Perhaps it was his own fault that Killian didn’t correct them when they assumed that the cuddlist would be a woman, because after awhile, he started believing it himself.

In the end, he didn’t care. His own masculinity would survive the trip to the professional cuddler’s house and if he was looking forward to being held for the first time in _years,_  no one needed to know. With Liam gone there was no family to share affection with. As far as romantic affection went, Killian hadn’t sworn it off after Milah’s death, but he was definitely steering clear for a while. His own rules said nothing about platonic hugs, though, and it was a loophole he was thankful he found.

When the day of his appointment arrived, he could count the number of things he knew about his cuddlist on his one hand.

Nolan lived on a farm just outside the city. It was exactly 27 miles away, and in traffic and weather, it would take him under an hour to get there on time. Miss Nolan was apparently a favorite of the company. Happy clients had all left five stars on the website, and the company director who sent him there promised that the clean aroma of fresh air would be well worth the lengthy drive.

Miss Nolan lived in a farmhouse the same color of the expanse of glistening snow that surrounded it. It was complete with navy shutters and a porch that wrapped nearly all the way around the home. The air did smell clean, with traces of warm hay and horses that reminded him of those few days Liam took him riding when they were boys. It could’ve been the nostalgia, or maybe it was the warm light that seeped out of the windows, but he felt ready to face whatever he would find inside.

He rang the doorbell, snow crunching under his feet as he shifted his weight. The tips of his fingers began to ache with the bite of the cold, so he shoved his non-prosthetic hand into his pocket, hot breath clouding in front of his face.

Maybe something had gone wrong with the scheduling? Either D. Nolan wasn’t home or she just hadn’t heard-

The door swung open and, _oh._

_Mister_ D. Nolan.

“Hi, there. Are you Killian?” the man asked, a stupid welcoming smile on his face that Killian couldn’t help but return.

“I am,” Killian replied, a nervous chuckle intruding his words. “And you’re D. Nolan I take it?”

“David Nolan, but just David fine,” the man supplied. “Please, come in!”

The inside of the house looked exactly like Killian pictured it might look. The inviting, comfortable arrangement of the home looked like it had come right off of some folksy interior design website. He couldn’t tell if it was the constant flow of visitors or just David’s personal taste that the place was kept so clean. Killian’s own woolen socks plodded across smooth hardwood floors as David gave him a brief tour of the house.

Killian followed politely, taking in each room as David explained that he lived alone and had inherited the house and farm from his late mother. He seemed like the type of guy to enjoy the freedoms of living on a farm, slightly calloused hands and scruff along his chin and neck. But there was a softness to him, as well. Compared to Killian, who came dressed in a knitted, grey turtleneck and soft jeans, David wore a loose, red long sleeved henley and sweatpants. He treated Killian as though they had been friends for years, lounging around hugging and enjoying the slight bite of the winter chill.

Then, of course, there was the fact that the inside of the house was _still_ decked out for Christmas. From the soft lights that lined doorways to the lingering aroma of evergreen candles, Killian thought that maybe he had fallen into some Hallmark Channel movie. Lonely man seeks physical affection in a house that tangibly feels like warm holiday cheer.

“Christmas was two weeks ago, mate,” Killian commented, eyeing the wreaths and stockings that hung from the fireplace. David leaned against the mantel, warming his hands by the toasty blaze.

“I like to drag it out as long as I can. There’s something about hugging by a christmas tree that brings people back to their childhoods, but I took the tree down a few days ago. Didn’t have the heart to pack the rest of it away just yet.” Clapping his hands together, he joined Killian where he sat stiffly on the couch.

“I received your payment and signed contract a few days ago, so we’re all set to get started whenever you’d like. Do you have any questions?” David asked.

Killian had read the contract over twice before he signed it, not wanting to accidentally cross any boundaries. It wasn’t rocket science, though. The session would play out platonically, nothing sexual. Even platonic kisses to cheeks or forehead needed to be exchanged on a consent basis. Killian doubted David would want any of that with him. Either of them could terminate the session at any time they pleased, for any reason. Both of them would be fresh and clean, as well, per the contract’s regulations. He’d done the research. He knew what to expect. There was just one thing he hadn’t taken into account.

“Am I your first male client?” Killian asked nervously, fingers winding through those of his prosthetic. David’s eyebrows shot upwards towards his hairline, but then he was vigorously shaking his head.

“About half my regular clients are male. Professional hugging isn’t just for women.”

“No, no, I know. I just didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable at all.” David offered a shrug that was both indifferent and friendly.

“I’m more than fine with having male clients. Are you comfortable?”

“I think so,” Killian said slowly. David paused, seemingly unconvinced so Killian amended, “Yes. Yes, I’m sure.”

“Then let’s get started!”

David led Killian onto an enclosed porch at the back of the house. He’d set up a few atmospheric candles, which flickered in the calming light of the late afternoon. Killian felt the warmth of the setting winter sun through the diffused clouds in the sky. Fuschia light spilled across the aged porch and into David’s hair as he added wood to the small stove. In between the window and the side of the house, a cushiony futon laid on the ground. The sides were caged in by an array of soft pillows. A few layers of fleece and cotton quilts had been spread out on the billowy mattress, enticing Killian to just collapse onto it.

David plopped down first, stretching his legs out like a cat before propping his head up on his hand. The futon had appeared big enough at first glance, but now with David sprawled out across it, Killian wondered if it would fit both of them on it. David seemed to realize what he was thinking, so he gave a welcoming smile and patted the space beside him.

Then, of course, there was the brief moment of sheer panic when Killian remembered he didn’t know how to cuddle with someone who was bigger than him. Most people he’d ever had in his arms enjoyed laying on top of him, head curled under his chin, a handful of women and men who tended to be smaller than him in size.  David was different, and Killian couldn’t help but feel just a bit intimidated.  What if he made a bloody fool of himself because he couldn’t even _cuddle_ without fucking it up?

Killian hadn’t noticed David rise to his knees, but was snapped out of his thoughts when the man grabbed his hand and tugged gently. There was a split second where everything went blank, and Killian couldn’t hear anything except the roaring in his ears, and then there was _David._

They fell into place as if they’d done it a thousand times. With David’s gentle guidance, Killian settled onto David’s chest, arms falling to lightly cling at the sides of his shirt. One of David’s hands reached down to tug Killian’s leg over his, a more comfortable position for both of them. Killian had to bite in the inside of his cheeks to keep from sighing too loudly. He couldn’t remember a time that he felt so _safe._ For what seemed like decades, it had always been “Killian against the world.” But the way David was holding him took the weight off of his shoulders. How could such a simple embrace say so just what he needed to hear so clearly? _You can let your guard down, no one will hurt you here._

“How’s this?” David asked, little huffs of breath swirling through Killian’s soft hair. Killian didn’t have words to describe how it was. It was more affection than he’d seen in years, just in the gentleness of the way David ran his fingers down his back and through his hair. It was the ease with which Killian practically melted into nothingness, held together only by the vibrations in his nerves. It was feeling the rise and fall of David’s chest, hearing the steady beat in his chest.

But most of all, it was the quiet desire in the back of Killian’s mind that wanted more than this.

“This is good,” he finally replied, throat dry.

“Good.” David’s arms tightened around him, and Killian felt him rest his cheek onto his head.

They laid like that for _three hours,_ and when Killian realized how much time had passed, he kind of freaked out.

Granted, it was a wonderful three hours, which is probably how it passed so quickly without either of them realizing it. Nearly every second was spent in the other’s arms. As soon as their muscles began feeling stiff in one position, David would lean back and allow Killian to settle back in another way. It was easier as time passed, too. They talked and napped and joked and told stories. Killian admitted that the whole reason he found out about this sort of thing was because he was _cold,_ to which David laughed and replied, “That’s a new one.”

The minutes flew by as David caressed the side of Killian’s cheek and down his neck, his rough fingers a pleasant contrast against the soft scruff of his face. In David’s arms, Killian began to unravel. The last stones of his defenses were torn down with such reverence, Killian found himself not wanting to hide himself anymore. The truth was, he was lonely, a little damaged, and no one had ever held him like they wanted more than just the temporary heat of his embrace. When he told David, the man smiled softly against the back of Killian’s shoulder.

“You’re a good man, Killian,” David told him. “You deserve someone who will appreciate you for all the wonderful things you are.”

Killian’s eyes fell shut, and he turned himself around so that he could gather David into his arms. With David’s lips against his ear, Killian could hear him chuckle, “I’m going to have to keep an eye on you, you might just steal my job.” A gentle smile lifted Killian’s lips, but the heat of the stove and the last drops of the sunset had turned his eyes heavy.

“It’s alright Killian, rest.”  So he did.

And when he woke up, he realized it was eight o’clock and he had overstayed his welcome by two hours. He stirred, still wrapped in David’s arms.

The polite thing to do probably would have been to gently wake David, apologize for staying longer than he paid for, and make sure that David knew the reason Killian couldn’t _ever_ come back again had nothing to do with his his cuddling abilities. He would, of course, leave out the part that it had had everything to do with Killian’s tendency to fall in love quickly, without warning.

So he left. He wrote a note with a brief apology, blew out the lit candles, got in his truck, and drove away. The next morning he contacted David’s company and made sure he received payment for the extra two hours. He even left David five stars on the website.

And that was that.

That is, until he was getting into his truck, enjoying the breezy spring weather as he made his way back to that white farm house in the country. The christmas decorations were finally gone from the window, and it seemed all of David’s horses were roaming the fields. Parked in front of the house, Killian went to war with himself. He rolled up the sleeves of his flannel in a nervous effort to keep himself busy, but he knew what he came here to do. He just had to do it. Against his better judgement, he swung open the truck door and marched up to the front door with false confidence.

David came to the door shortly after Killian managed to ring the doorbell.

“Killian!” he stuttered, surprised. Killian shuffled his feet a little, shooting him a nervous smile that he felt all the way down to his toes. David remembered him which was a good start, he supposed.  “It’s good to see you, but I can’t really take walk-ins. Maybe I can figure something—”

“That’s not what I’m here about,” Killian interrupted.

“It’s not.”

“No.”

David’s hand came to rest on the edge of the door, leaning on it with a twinkle in his eye that seemed a bit uneasy and perhaps a bit hopeful. “Then what did you come here for?”

Killian ran his tongue along the inside of his teeth, reigning in what little confidence he had left.

“I was wondering if you were free for coffee… or something.”

David cocked a brow, and Killian felt himself visibly relax when the man lit up in an affectionate grin.

“I, uh, have a client in a few minutes but there’s this cafe in town that isn’t too far. I could meet you there when I’m finished. That is, if you don’t mind waiting a little bit.”

Killian heaved out a breathy laugh and shook his head.

“No, I don’t mind waiting at all.”   
  
  



End file.
